


Eyes Open

by adamsnackler



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment, Absent Parents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bookstore Owner Rey, Boss/Employee Relationship, Child Abandonment, Consensual Sex, Drug Addiction, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I guess I kinda wrote this as if they're virgins but in my mind they're not?, I might have an addiction to fires, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm tagging as I'm editing and oh look there's a Girls reference too, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, My First Smut, Orphan Rey (Star Wars), Protective Ben Solo, References to Addiction, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey's parents were addicts, Reylo - Freeform, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex, Smut, Soft Ben Solo, Stubborn Rey (Star Wars), Trust Issues, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, anyway long live reylo, boss rey, employee ben, mood lighting am I right, not drunk but intoxicated sex, references to past bad home life, spot the Frances Ha references, there's only one bed (or couch), these idiots are in love your honor, truth or drink turns angsty then flirty, well my second smut but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamsnackler/pseuds/adamsnackler
Summary: Ben stares back at her, brow furrowed in confusion.“What’s truth or drink?”Rey giggles. “It’s like truth or dare but instead of dare you drink.”Ben studies her for a moment. “I…” he hesitates. “I’ve never actually played truth or dare.”“What?” Rey couldn’t help her astonishment. “How have you never played Truth or Dare before?”Ben takes the bottle and begins to pour a finger of whiskey into each glass. “Are we starting the game already?” He asks with a smirk, handing one of the glasses to Rey.“Sure,” she replies, stifling a giggle.Ben takes his glass, looks her straight in the eye, and takes a sip.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 130





	Eyes Open

**Author's Note:**

> This is the written part of my textfic [Sick Day on Twitter](https://twitter.com/adamsnackler/status/1286837667255193600?s=20). 
> 
> You can read it on it's own but there's references that might not make sense. Basically Rose and Poe are meddling but loving friends and stole Rey's key to the bookstore so she and Ben are forced to spend the night. And there might be only one couch because I'm a sl*t for tropes.
> 
> Enjoy!

The lights in the bookstore flicker off, the power saver kicking in now that the store was closed. In the low light it was even harder to search for her missing key. Rey cursed herself for not making a spare. She had been meaning to for months, but it didn’t seem to be so urgent. Now, of course, she knew how wrong that thinking was. Especially with friends like Rose and Poe. Never in a million years did she think they would go this far. Because this was _far_. This was up and down a mountain, through a valley, across the Jakku desert Far. Even for Poe. _Especially_ for Rose.

“Here, I grabbed these from the supply closet.” Ben’s voice was low and gruff, causing Rey to involuntarily shudder as she turned to face him.

He stood there in the darkness, a flashlight in each hand (oh, those _hands_ ), with one arm outstretched to her, gesturing her to take the flashlight. Shadows danced across his face in the dimming light from the setting sun, highlighting his angular features. His sharp nose curving into his soft creamy cheeks, lips like two pink pillows tilting upwards into dimples. Rey wondered if his lips felt as soft as they looked. She imagined they were, that they were soft and warm and tasted like the mint gum he constantly chewed.

Ben waved his outstretched arm at her again, the grin growing on his face. “Rey?”

She lets out a deep breath, collecting herself, as she takes the flashlight. “Thanks.”

He stands there, regarding her, flickers of half-formed expressions playing across his face. She squirms under his thoughtful gaze, unable to meet his eyes. Her sight settled on his shoes, old worn out Converse.

Bad idea. Abort. _Abort_.

Because his feet are _massive_. She shouldn’t have been surprised, considering how large he is overall, but she can’t help the thoughts that cross her mind. Like, for example, what they say about men with big feet, and if, per chance, Ben fits the stereotype.

She shakes her head, attempting to clear the filth washing over her mind.

_He’s your employee_ , she mentally chides herself.

“Rey?” Ben once again cuts into her thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Is there anyone else who has a spare key?” He repeats.

Rey shakes her head. “Nope,” she replies curtly, popping the _p_.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair.

“I know,” she whispers, half hoping he doesn’t hear. She feels tears prickle at the corners of her eyes as an overwhelming sense of failure washes over her. What had Maz always reminded her? To have a spare key. She would be so disappointed in Rey were she still here. Rey can’t help but feel guilty at the thought, at the fact that even now she was a failure, a disappointment. No wonder no one ever wanted her, she can’t help but think as her eyes sting and her vision goes cloudy.

“Rey?” Ben’s voice sounds like it’s from miles away, cutting through the thick haze of her mental self-deprecation.

She feels his hand on her shoulder, heavy and warm, moving up to cup her chin while his thumb delicately brushes away the tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, not meeting his eye.

He pulls her close, allowing her to melt into him as she openly sobs. He rubs her back, cradles her neck, as she weeps. She clutches his sweater. It’s too much. It’s just too much.

They stay like that for a moment, contentedly, until Ben breaks the silence. “It’s okay, Swee- Rey. It isn’t your fault."

She collects herself, straightening and brushing the remnants of tears off her cheeks. She would be fine. She was a survivor. She could stay the night and make a new key tomorrow. Everything would be okay.

“Sorry about that,” Rey says, voice unwavering now, forcing herself to be a mature adult. “It’ll be fine. I’ll lock up from inside and stay the night. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It wouldn’t be?” Ben asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Rey nodded. “I lived here for a while. I was in a bad living situation and needed to get out but didn’t have the money at the time. So Maz let me stay here. There’s the fridge in the break room and the couch and fireplace in the reading nook to stay warm…”

As if on cue an icy draft blew through the room.

“Gotta love winter,” Rey grumbled.

“Do they… do they _cut the heat_ at night?” Ben sounds horrified, causing Rey to blush.

She nods. “Building manager is a bit of a twat, really.”

She looks up to find Ben shaking his head in disgust. He turns towards the reading nook and calls back over his shoulder, “I’m gonna start the fire. You think about what you want to order for dinner.”

“Wait, Ben, you don’t actually have to stay. I’ll be fine, I…” Rey tries to call after him.

He doesn’t acknowledge her protests, instead busying himself with the fireplace.

Rey sighs. This was going to be a long night.

————

An hour later Rey and Ben are seated comfortably on the couch by the fireplace in the reading nook. It’s a cozy little space to get lost for a while, to get sucked into the fantasy world of your book of choice. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves surround the fireplace. Remnants of several half-consumed Chinese takeout containers litter the coffee table that’s centered over a woven Aztec rug.

Rey and Ben lean back against opposite armrests of the couch, turned towards each other but not quite facing directly at one another, each wrapped in a warm blanket. She had tried arguing against him staying the night several times over the last hour, only to be rebuffed at every turn. (He had looked positively horrified at the idea of her eating a can of soup that had been sitting in the break room for the better part of a year, stating matter-of-factly, “A can of soup does _not_ constitute dinner, Rey. What do you want from Dumpling House?”)

Eventually she had given up protesting and resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be staying overnight at the bookshop with Ben.

Ben. With his strong jawline and deep whiskey eyes. The scattering of dark moles across his milky white skin forming constellations in the flickering glow of firelight. She wanted to kiss every last one. Wanted to play connect the dots using her lips. Wanted to run her finger delicately down his large, angular nose, his pillowy pink lips…

She had to admit, she didn’t _hate_ having company.

She chanced a glance back up at him, shyly tucking her hair behind her ears. He met her gaze, intense, eyes darkened and studying her. Rey blushed, despite knowing he couldn’t possibly hear her thoughts, it _felt_ like he knew what she had been thinking.

She needed a distraction.

_They_ needed a distraction.

“We need whiskeys,” she declared impulsively, standing from the couch.

She made her way to the office, trying to collect herself. Her emotions were running haywire around Ben, and she didn’t quite know what to make of it. Normally she was calm cool and collected, in control. But for some reason Ben made her emotions run wild, like she didn’t have to put up the constant front of being the ‘put together cool girl’ for him. Like maybe he could want to take care of her when she felt vulnerable.

Vulnerable. That wasn’t something Rey allowed herself to feel familiar with. But with Ben…

_No_. She wouldn’t allow herself to entertain that notion.

She grabs the bottle of whiskey from her desk, along with two rocks glasses.

Returning to the reading nook, she holds out the bottle. “Do you want to play truth or drink?”

Ben stares back at her, brow furrowed in confusion.

“What’s truth or drink?”

Rey giggles. “It’s like truth or dare but instead of dare you drink.”

Ben studies her for a moment. “I…” he hesitates. “I’ve never actually played truth or dare.”

“What?” Rey couldn’t help her astonishment. “How have you never played Truth or Dare before?”

Ben takes the bottle and begins to pour a finger of whiskey into each glass. “Are we starting the game already?” He asks with a smirk, handing one of the glasses to Rey.

“Sure,” she replies, stifling a giggle.

Ben takes his glass, looks her straight in the eye, and takes a sip.

"Ben!”

“Hmm?” He replies, feigning innocence.

Rey just laughes in response, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Whatever, your turn.”

“Why do you have a bottle of whiskey in your office?”

She brings the glass to her lips. Two can play his game. She watches his eyes go wide and can’t help but giggle. Lowering the glass, she says, “It makes bookkeeping so much more fun.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You drink while doing the books? Doesn’t that inhibit your accuracy?”

Rey snorts. “That’s two questions, and it’s _my_ turn, Benjamin. Play by the rules.” She pauses, trying to think of a good question. In theory, you’re supposed to ask embarrassing or inappropriate questions, but in reality she just wants to get to _know_ him better. She wants to learn about his life, his family, his childhood, his aspirations. She wants to learn his story. Wants to learn _him_.

“Where are you from?” She winces at the boringness of her question.

“Here.”

She meets his eyes. They’re soft, liquid amber. They make her feel warm and cozy. “Here as in, the city?”

He nods. “Well, and upstate. Most people in the city have a place upstate.” His face grows flush as he says it, feeling his ears burn.

Rey gapes at him. _Two_ homes? Ben grew up with two homes and she couldn’t even get one until she was _fourteen_?

“Sorry,” he murmurs, as if reading her mind.

She shakes her head. She didn’t blame him for anything, of course. It wasn’t his fault he had more luxuries than she did growing up. And it certainly didn’t mean he had an ideal childhood or anything. “No, it’s not… you don’t need to apologize for anything, Ben,” she says. “It’s just, it never even occurred to me that people have more than one home. It just… it just surprised me, is all.”

“If it makes you feel better, they didn’t always feel like home,” he offers.

“No?”

“Hey, now who’s cheating?” He teases. “How many foster homes did you go through?”

Rey takes a gulp of whiskey.

“Sorry,” Ben says again.

She shakes her head again. “No, it’s… It’s okay. That’s the game. You can drink or answer.”

He nods, taking another sip, despite not being asked a question yet.

“So, did you have the picturesque American childhood?”

He snorts. “Oh, totally,” he responds, voice oozing with sarcasm. He takes another sip. “Sorry, uh, I wouldn’t exactly call it the ideal childhood. When I was a kid it was nice, I guess. My parents weren’t around much, I was pretty much raised by our nanny Threepio.”

Rey feels her heart melt at his words. So he _does_ know what it’s like to be alone. To feel abandoned. Maybe she and Ben aren’t that different. Maybe he could really, truly understand. She can feel the walls she steadfastly built to protect herself, protect her _heart_ , slowly start to tumble down.

“When did you move to the United States?” He asks, breaking her from her thoughts.

Rey sighs, watching as he refills their glasses. She wants to take another sip. It would be the easy way out. But something about what he just told her, how he opened up to her, it makes her want to open up too. She wants to say, you’re not alone, I’m here, I understand.

So she tells him.

“My parents, they were good people, just lost. They were addicts, but they got clean when my mom got pregnant with me. Moved to New York to start a new life. But it only lasted a few years. I was four when they left me in a fire station. I bounced around the system for eight years until I landed with Maz. The adoption papers came through two years later.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Rey, that’s…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Ben.”

“No, I just,” he pauses. Rey can see him working his jaw even in the low light. Thinking. “Just, _thank you_. For sharing that. For, trusting me, with that.”

She shrugs, taking another sip. “Your turn. What do you parents do that they were never around?”

“Dad’s a pilot. He flew commercial with lots of international flights so he was almost never home. Mom was in politics when I was growing up but now she runs a nonprofit.”

“Oh?” Rey raises her eyebrows in question.

“Yeah,” he replies timidly. “For childhood advocacy.”

Rey freezes. Oh. _Oh_. “That’s,” she struggles to find the words. “Ben that’s great. I mean, shit, I don’t mean that’s great that they weren’t around. But just. That she… Now… _Shit_. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”

She downs her drink, feeling her face grow flush.

“It’s okay,” he assures her softly. “I know.”

She manages to meet his eye and he offers her a small smile. Reassuring. Comforting. The edges of his lips twisting upwards just so, his cheeks dimpling.

Her heart flutters. It’s like she’s a schoolgirl again, and cute Snap Wexley is smiling at her as he pulls her pigtails. She remembers feeling butterflies in her stomach and then the immediate instinct to _squash_ them. Because feelings meant vulnerability, and vulnerability was Bad.

Except with Ben, she doesn’t mind feeling vulnerable. And that concept is so beyond confusing that she can barely wrap her head around it.

“What are you thinking?” Ben asks softly.

She hadn’t realized that she had been staring at him. He was even more beautiful against the warm glow of the fire. The flickering flames bounce off his eyes, deep amber with flecks of gold that shimmer in the glow, like a sparkling treasure that she wished she could keep for herself.

There’s no way she can answer his question honestly, so she takes another sip of whiskey.

Then, she realizes, she has to ask him another question. Maybe it’s the whiskey, maybe the warmth of the fire, maybe the way he’s looking at her, expectant and intent, but she can’t help as the words fall from her mouth, a breathy whisper.

“When was your first kiss?”

She realizes the immensity of what she asked as soon as it leaves her lips. She expects to regret it, to feel guilty or shy or embarrassed, but she doesn’t. Instead she holds his gaze, peeking up at him from behind long dark lashes.

Ben’s breath catches in his throat. The mood in the room had shifted, somehow turned from deep, intense conversation to… _this_. He wasn’t sure exactly what had shifted over the course of the night, but he had felt the air between them relax. Maybe it was the fire or the whiskey, but he’d watched as Rey allowed herself to open up to him, and he let himself open up to her too, showing her a piece of him he often hid even from himself. The more she spoke, the more he learned about her, the more he felt himself falling, head over heals, for her.

His _boss_.

He wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe she felt it too, this _thing_ between them. This connection they shared.

“I was… _difficult_ , growing up. Too much energy, not enough attention, whatever it was. My parents thought it was for the best.” Ben clenched his glass so hard he thought distantly it might break. “My uncle Luke, he was headmaster of a boarding school for _troubled_ youths. There was this party, we were all half-drunk off stolen wine from the kitchens. We were playing spin the bottle and, it’s a little hazy, but on my turn I spun one of the empty wine bottles and it landed on my friend Tai.”

He glances at Rey. She’s staring at him, eyes wide but focused on him, their warm hazel glowing in the flicker of firelight. She seems almost expectant, _wanting_.

Ben shrugs. “We actually dated for a year after that,” he adds. “What about yours?” He holds his breath, half in shock that he had actually dared to ask, half instantly regretting even asking. After all, he didn’t exactly want to hear about some romantic moment with another guy, but he also didn’t want her response to be something even worse, and considering her upbringing, that was a definite possibility.

Part of him expected her to just blow it off, take the drink and ask him something else.

He was wrong. On all accounts, really, and what she answered sent him into a world of shock. Because there was no way, absolutely _no fucking way_ , that this woman, this _goddess_ , had not been kissed yet.

“What?” Ben found himself asking, lips once again refraining from asking permission from his brain before speaking.

“I’ve never been kissed,” she repeats shyly, tucking an errant tuff of hair behind her ear and looking down at her glass. A beautiful rosy blush grows across her face, firelight illuminating her freckles, and Ben could swear to the Gods themselves that she was actually _glowing_.

She looks up at him and Ben is sure he’s forgotten how to breathe. Or speak. Or think. Because she’s looking at up at him from beneath long dark lashes, with those warm wide eyes, her bottom lip soft and pink caught under a pearly white tooth, and she, this ethereal goddess, is looking at him with something boarding desire. His eyes darken and he feels it in his bones, his primal instinct going absolutely _feral_ urging him to make a move.

He supposes that’s how he finds himself on the other end of the couch a moment later, mere inches from her. At this distance he can hear her breath catch in her throat at his proximity, see her eyes grow impossibly wider and her lips part ever so delicately. He watches as her eyes flicker down to his lips, and then she’s leaning into _him_ and he can’t help himself.

Gently, he cups her face in his hand and closes the distance between them, pressing one soft, delicate kiss onto her pillowy soft lips. Her entire body relaxes into him, her breath letting out a content sigh as she moves to deepen the kiss.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Her tongue darts between his lips, parting them gently, until she’s inside and then her soft velvet tongue is dancing with his, _tasting_ him. She lets out an involuntary moan, scooting forward on the couch, climbing into his lap. Grinding her hips down onto his she feels his cock growing hard with desire, desire for _her_ , and she lets out a breathy gasp as his mouth moves to her neck, sucking and biting and _marking_ her.

“Ben,” she moans into his ear, and that’s all he needs.

He wraps one arm around her waist, the other stabilizing them on the couch, and flips her onto her back, his mouth continually suckling at her neck. Her legs wrap around his waist, hips grinding upwards to meet his.

“Ben, do you have…” She’s barely coherent, can barely _think_ with the way he’s ravaging the sensitive skin of her neck.

He moans into her neck before lifting his head, eyes searching her face. She looks like a disheveled angel, staring up at his expectantly, and he can’t help the low growl that rumbles from deep in his core. He nods, albeit a bit frantically, assuring her that yes, he _does_ , he’ll take care of her, keep her safe.

She softens even more at that, pulling him back in for another sloppy kiss. Her fingers tug at his shirt. He helps her pull it off, breaking the kiss as he slips the worn cotton over his head. When he looks back at her he sees she’s already removed her own shirt, and is working at the clasp of her bra, and his breath catches in his throat as she discards the thin piece of lace.

Because she is positively, absolutely, beyond a doubt, radiantly gorgeous.

And she is choosing _him_.

“Ben,” she whines grasping at him, fumbling with the button on his jeans.

He looks down between them where their hips meet, her denim clad legs still wrapped around him. Swiftly he works off her jeans, discards his own and rids them of each of their sensible cotton undergarments, and mouths at her breasts.

His hand darts between them, fingers finding her core as he works one, then two into her. His thumb rubs at her sensitive nub as his tongue swirls around her nipple. She moans his name and Ben is fairly certain it’s the mythological siren song he’s always been warned of, because nothing could sound better than his name on her lips as he works his way into her center. He feels her cunt clench around his digits as her moans get louder, faster, calling his name as she comes.

His fingers work her through her orgasm as he watches her come down from her high, pressing small kisses onto her shoulder. Then she’s grabbing at him again, wanting _more_ , kissing him with ferocious energy. She bites at his neck, pulls his bottom lip between her teeth, and wraps her legs around his waist to grind into him.

Taking a breath, he casts another glance up at her. “Rey, are you sure?”

She nods frantically, hips bucking up at him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his face to hers and landing another wet kiss on his lips.

“Yes, Ben, _please_.”

He pulls the condom from his wallet that he swore he would never be in a position to actually use and rolls it on. He watches her face, looking up at him expectantly, as he lines himself up with her center and nudges inward.

Her eyes flutter closed, mouth breaking into an O as her fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him into her. He slides in slowly, and—

“ _Shit_ ,” he breathes as he bottoms out. “You’re so fucking _tight_.”

She hums around him in response.

“So good, so tight,” he chants as he begins to thrust.

It’s like she was made for him, the way she opens up for him so easily. He rocks his hips forwards with more and more force as her moans get louder. She chants his name, her voice getting breathier as she approaches her second climax and Ben can’t take it anymore.

“Rey, I’m gonna—“ he grunts into her, thrusts growing wild and erratic.

He reaches down between them, to rub at her clit, and that’s all it takes to push her over the edge and he’s not far behind. Thumbing her clit he works her through her high as he reaches his peak, thrusts impossibly erratic that he feels he might split her in two. His vision whites out as he comes with a series of grunts, collapsing on top of her as he comes down from his high.

She strokes his hair as he nuzzles into her neck, each humming with content. They lay there, basking in the glow of the fire and allowing themselves to forget the world. Right there, in that moment, it was just them. They had each other now, and that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I still can't believe anyone actually reads my writing let alone likes it so you're all wonderful and I appreciate you so very much.
> 
> As always feel free to find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/adamsnackler) and say Hi!


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